


love language

by decalcomonia



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Birthdays, Fluff, Getting Together, Kang Taehyun-Centric, M/M, Narration Heavy, i avoid writing dialogue the same way taejun avoid taking selcas, lots of feelings, relationship study? kind of, roommates!, sweet! domestic!, taejun and their mutual respect and admiration!!, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27530164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decalcomonia/pseuds/decalcomonia
Summary: eyes are the window to the soul, yeonjun would always tease him. maybe it’s a little unfair, that taehyun’s have to be so big that they hold the cosmos and then some. that it’s obvious from a single glance— even to yeonjun himself— that taehyun enjoys this, that he likes whatever late night adventure yeonjun drums up for the two of them.
Relationships: Choi Yeonjun/Kang Taehyun
Comments: 8
Kudos: 84





	love language

**Author's Note:**

> the big question is whether this fic is two months late or ten months early. while i didn't write anything for yeonjun's actual birthday, the winter season always makes me think about holidays + i am the biggest wishlist enthusiast on this planet, so birthdays have been on my mind quite a lot lately!
> 
> anyway, in classic personal fashion, i scrapped and rewrote this story several times before the "taejun have been together the longest" tweets started popping up on the tl, which of course made me feel many things. they helped birth this. i hope you all enjoy <3

yeonjun’s eyes light up a little bit when he hears taehyun climbing up the several flights of fire escape stairs, his shoes scraping against the cold, black metal. when taehyun finally manages to hook his fingers on the ladder’s last step and yank himself over the edge of the rooftop, he glimpses the older boy’s setup right away: legs crossed on one of their brightly-colored beach towels that now serves as a makeshift picnic blanket, a cup of iced americano in his lap, and a single plated cupcake at his feet. 

“you came—” is yeonjun’s form of greeting, voice melodic in tone. the smile on his face is soft around the edges but not lacking in its energy, in its brightness, even for the middle of the night. taehyun plops down next to yeonjun, rolls his eyes a little and leans into his side anyway. he brushes at some of yeonjun’s hair with one hand and passes him the butter knife that he had asked for with the other, pulls the backs of his slip-on sneakers all the way up his heels because they had started to slip down in his rush to exit the apartment.

“happy birthday,” taehyun murmurs, taking a second to smooth out a corner of the towel before training his eyes back on yeonjun. the older boy’s hair is longer than usual, cotton candy fringe shielding his eyes until he shakes his head a little and it falls back. with cat eyes dusted with a hint of sparkly eyeshadow, a soft jaw and pretty plush lips; he feels like a sight to behold. 

choi yeonjun has always been something of an enigma. they first meet in a practice room freshman year, but taehyun knows who yeonjun is before he sees him. he’s subjected to three minutes of soobin gushing about the older boy’s talents in the dorms, and taehyun just nods along, half-listening as he zips up the bag that he plans on bringing to the studio. soobin’s eyes are a little wide and hazy as he finishes his tale, and taehyun swiftly threads their arms together, tells his tallest friend that they’ve got this with as much conviction as he can muster up.

taehyun soon gets it, though; yeonjun’s turn comes and taehyun can’t quite tell where the music starts and stops, too focused on the dancer himself. the passion there is tangible and _gorgeous_ , visible in the pursing of yeonjun’s lips or the confidence in his stance, behind the lids of his eyes and down to the ways his toes point.

little coincidences soon bring the two of them closer. a shared floor in the dorms, polite smiles exchanged in hallways, weekly parties in one of the rooms downstairs. they inevitably share a few drunken kisses, a few moments of quiet conversation and comfort too, when the common room is empty or the studio deserted at the end of the day. their mutual respect, taehyun finds, gives a very smooth lead-in to the blossoming of an actual friendship for the two of them. taehyun likes the way that yeonjun seems to fit perfectly into all the little spaces in his life: how he shifts down the line until he spends practices at taehyun’s side, how he cracks jokes with soobin during coffee runs and wrestles with beomgyu and kai too. 

taehyun slips out of the dorms during summer school, rooms with kai for that term and with yeonjun his sophomore year when kai goes to live with soobin. moving in together brings naps on shared couches and dozens of late nights holed up in the library, midday adventures, yanking at each other’s hands and spontaneous encouragement— usually on yeonjun’s end— for the other to tag along.

the two of them are very different and painfully similar all at once; taehyun knows this, the roommate situation makes it apparent. there’s nights where he’s trudged out of their apartment complex at one in the morning, crossing the road just to find a curled-up yeonjun still sitting on the floor of their dance studio. all but dragging yeonjun back home at midnight to futile protests, taehyun tucking the older boy into bed before settling back into his own. there come lines that sound just a little too familiar, whispered vulnerability and healing words, admittance on taehyun’s end that _i just need to know that you’re safe, hyung_.

the lace detailing stitched onto his billowy pajama shirt itches at taehyun’s skin when the wind blows. day by day is how he tries to make it. one presentation in a morning class, two afternoon lectures, dance lessons, a shift at the local pharmacy, as much schoolwork as he can manage until his eyes close for the night, and then all of that all over again. it’s as much as he can do, to take things one step at a time.

it’s easier though, easier to put one foot before the next, easier to believe that the next day will be better with yeonjun by his side. the older boy who quickly took taehyun under his wing, who still walks him from the dance studio to his job three blocks away. who picks him up after work too, so that they can take an evening bus back across town to their apartment. who asks taehyun about his day like clockwork, listens with the utmost of sincerity and slips in words of affirmation, because yeonjun likes making people feel cherished. 

_taehyun-ah, you’re doing great_ , even if he gets a few steps of the choreography wrong, when he fails an essay or after he knocks over a shelf at work. taehyun finds himself looping his arm through yeonjun’s arm, and the latter just squeezes his hand back— it’s reassurance that never so much as falters. and taehyun is grateful, grateful for the listening ear and helping hand, grateful for all the time that yeonjun has been willing to share with him until they eventually grew this comfortable with one another.

 _i admire you so much, taehyun_ , slips its way out from yeonjun’s mouth during a particularly sentimental conversation one day. how genuine yeonjun sounds, the words themselves, and the way yeonjun turns on his side to face taehyun when speaking all make taehyun a little dizzy. he tries the words out on his own tongue, tastes them and lets them linger until he repeats them back, but he thinks that yeonjun might already know. time just solidifies their bond, their awareness of each other’s tendencies, like how taehyun is never one to leave his phone on do not disturb, and that ultimately is what brings him here, sitting on their rooftop with yeonjun’s head in his lap. 

there are some things that are never really questions. gravity and taxes and heartbreak, and taehyun thinks that he might as well add in the fact that he feels tethered to yeonjun in more ways than one. when they drift together, taehyun latches on because it’s all he knows, how it feels to be with this boy, for all his grace and hard edges, his joy and melancholy. 

taehyun knows what it’s like to want someone. knows what it’s like to go pink in the face, how it feels to have his heart thumping in his chest— a parade complete with drums. the way his senses are lit on fire, how his fingers flutter, the feeling when he falls and keeps on going. though it’s hard to separate these emotions from how taehyun has always felt, once their first impressions had faded, and he thinks that maybe he’s always been falling for yeonjun, prone to desire things he can’t quite have just yet.

time doesn’t erase the past, just tosses a blanket over it, but taehyun seems to kick it right off, unearthing memories of freshman year. his mind drifts back to the post-partying kisses a little more than taehyun thinks it probably, _reasonably_ should.

yeonjun gets a boyfriend halfway through that second semester, and taehyun embarks on his fair share of dates too. he tags along at soobin’s insistence for nights out at the club kai works at, ones that occasionally end with taehyun getting kissed up against the door to one of the cramped bathroom stalls, the taste of vodka chased by orange juice still lingering on his tongue when he’s left short of breath, lips swollen far after it all ends. 

still, the parts of taehyun that hurt don’t hurt any less afterwards, and the warm body doesn’t make him forget about the boy he’s doing a poor job at avoiding. so he chooses to indulge for a change, comes home and links pinkies with yeonjun as they lay sprawled out in the living room and watch a movie or two, but the hands disappear when the phone rings, and only return for the night when it’s not him on the other end. taehyun decides that he’s okay with this, as he likes yeonjun’s company no matter what and always has.

his boyfriend does phone back eventually, and yeonjun’s eyes are bright when he asks taehyun, as a formality, if he can leave to take the call. taehyun thinks the look of love on the older boy is breathtaking; he nods and he means it, and that’s that. they separate for the night, and while lying in bed, taehyun notices that there’s a chime to the special laughter that yeonjun reserves for his boyfriend, the kind taehyun often catches muffled through the paper-thin walls during those six months. it’s a pretty sound.

twenty-nine days before yeonjun’s birthday is when yeonjun and his boyfriend break up. yeonjun doesn’t mope about it too much, but taehyun wonders if he’s still feeling a little pitiful when they light the candle together. it flickers and a drop of the wax melts, plops right into the frosting. neither of them so much as flinch; yeonjun swipes it off in a single, swift motion, and taehyun cracks a joke about them avoiding being poisoned. 

it’s stupid, but the bottom of yeonjun’s face splits into a smile anyway. the eccentricity of it all is almost astounding. they split the dessert around midnight and taehyun had never heard of someone starting off their birthday with a cupcake, in the most literal form of said expression, but he supposes it’s quite fitting. the larger half finds its way onto taehyun’s plate and it would be, should be odd but he knows that yeonjun has always looked out for him, even without reason to. taehyun eats it with a grin, figuring it’s the least he can do to try and put the older boy at peace. 

the night and their city are tinged with blue, so much blue. the nail polish on taehyun’s fingernails, the color of yeonjun’s jeans, poorly lit signs that cast a blue sheen over the concrete store exteriors. the night is shrouded in darkness except for its final displays of life, its last gaps, stars lighting up a background littered with shades of indigo, a smattering of color still clinging onto the landscape.

yeonjun peers behind taehyun, taking note of the fluorescent, cyan-colored lights still illuminating the bottom of the rooftop pool, which hadn’t yet been covered for the season. when he suggests that they go in, taehyun agrees without very much resistance. they jump in together, clothes still on, and quickly peel themselves out of the pool, teeth chattering until they settle into the hot tub. their clothes stick to their skin, sopping wet and filling the air with the unmistakable smell of chlorine. it makes taehyun feel a little lightheaded, crinkling his nose in poorly masked distaste.

he had done this before— he and beomgyu lost a bet to kai and found themselves being pushed into the pool by yeonjun and soobin earlier that summer, before the two of them immediately teamed up to pull everyone in after them. maybe there’s something about the intimacy of it this time around, of yeonjun disappearing downstairs to go get more towels before handing taehyun a thick, taupe-colored one that was usually stashed at the back of yeonjun’s closet for safekeeping, a housewarming gift from his mother, but one that he knew taehyun was incredibly fond of. all these little bits of knowledge that are stashed away in a toolbox that only yeonjun, and maybe huening kai, has the key to. 

_eyes are the window to the soul_ , yeonjun would always tease him. maybe it’s a little unfair, that taehyun’s have to be so big that they hold the cosmos and then some. that it’s obvious from a single glance— even to yeonjun himself— that taehyun enjoys this, that he likes whatever late night adventure yeonjun drums up for the two of them. 

the ridiculousness of it all sets in a little more when taehyun finds himself still standing there, towel draped around his full body and clothes still dripping water onto the rooftop. the middle of september is a little too cold for a late swim; the chill from the air and any occasional gusts of wind nips at taehyun’s nose, settles in his bones. 

but yeonjun doesn’t seem to feel the sting of the cold any longer, just goes on to clean up their belongings at a steady pace. he turns to taehyun, thanks him again all quiet and close, and taehyun shakes his head with a resolute smile that immediately slots into place, reminding yeonjun that his gift is still waiting for him downstairs.

yeonjun hesitates for a moment before he sets down the cloth tote that he had piled their things into. a hand slips its way onto taehyun’s shoulder, the other coming up to brush back a lock of his hair. taehyun’s senses go numb to every sensation that doesn’t have to do with where yeonjun’s hands are resting, their warmth melting the frost to his skin.

it takes a second before yeonjun closes the distance and kisses him, their lips slotting together. yeonjun tastes like buttercream now, rather than cheap beer from the freshman doors. but it still feels the same, gives taehyun a numbing mouthful of stardust and then some, sensations that are heady and exhilarating. yeonjun’s mouth is skilled, fingers nimble, all savvy enough to know how to pick taehyun apart. 

“is this okay?” yeonjun asks when they do part, his eyes slightly hooded. he sounds a little breathless, words doused in candied syrup, velvety voice dripping with fresh honey and saccharin sugar. his tone of inflection is higher than usual too, lips already red. like apples and cherries and blood, the blood that rushes to the tips of taehyun’s ears— it pulses through his veins, sends tingles down his spine.

“yeah,” taehyun gets out, a whisper of a thing as he catches his breath, voice a little firmer the second time around. “yeah, it is.”

yeonjun never strays very far, the night waning in the background behind them. it all ebbs and flows; there are limits, lines and boundaries, convergence that seemingly fades away by the second and has been for some time. taehyun isn’t really sure if he can pinpoint when exactly, but he isn’t sure if it matters much either, because yeonjun asks if he can kiss taehyun again, and taehyun says yes. the lines blur further.

their lips connect again, taehyun swiping his tongue across yeonjun’s bottom lip. the older boy giggles, knees getting wobbly, and he pulls taehyun down with him until they’re seated back on the ground. they trade kisses for a bit; taehyun takes the lead, liking the way yeonjun hums into his mouth, how that note drips with satisfaction. taehyun pulls back and gifts yeonjun a kiss on the tip of his nose, watching how the older boy’s eyes flutter shut as he does so. taehyun eventually removes his hand from yeonjun’s waist, bites his lip and tries not to think too hard about how glazed over his eyes must be, not when yeonjun’s appear blown out too.

“happy birthday,” taehyun repeats again, cheeks flushed but tone unshakeable. yeonjun is pretty, always has been, but taehyun thinks that he might like the flustered look best on him, all for particularly selfish reasons. 

the phone rings at seven o’clock that same morning and yeonjun worms his way out of a pile of blankets to get it, emitting a grumble while untangling himself. taehyun knows who’s on the other end of the line just from the older boy’s tone, the way the acid doesn’t disappear even after he picks up. taehyun closes his eyes and pretends to sleep for yeonjun’s sake, ignoring the frustrated sigh yeonjun emits when he sits back down on the couch that they had both fallen asleep on. taehyun only rolls over when yeonjun has gotten settled, after he turns off the television they had accidentally left on and stretches himself out into a vaguely comfortable position. he quietly asks if he’s okay.

yeonjun’s lips stretch out into a smile, voice coming out a little raspy. “i will be. go back to bed, taehyun-ah. hyung is just thinking.”

they don’t talk about it for a few hours, even after yeonjun falls back to sleep and they both wake up for good. not when their elbows bump together as they brush their teeth at the one bathroom sink that their apartment features, not when yeonjun catches taehyun sitting at their tiny kitchen table in one of his old shirts. maybe these things are a little more apparent now, and taehyun can hear their friends’ hypothetical jeers loud and clear, but this was commonplace for the two of them: shared sweaters, shared headphones on the bus ride home when a song they both particularly like comes on shuffle. 

they live together in every sense of the word; when taehyun thinks of the word home, yeonjun comes to mind before any pictures of their front door, whose paint keeps chipping off by the day, or of the entryway where they stash their excessive shoe collection.

yeonjun is the warmth of the fireplace taehyun had at his childhood home, the patience embedded in all the stitches and patches sewn onto the jeans taehyun ripped and his mother had then fixed over the years, the love poured into the care packages that taehyun sometimes gets from his group of friends in his hometown. yeonjun is ever so steady; he plays the role of taehyun’s rock, but they each give a little, both compromising and making promises and trying their best to keep them. taehyun trusts him with his world.

yeonjun is placing an egg in front of taehyun when he asks him if he meant what he said. the sun streams bright through the kitchen window, and it has taehyun squinting and his neck hot.

“there’s never been anything that we’ve done together that i didn’t want to do,” taehyun replies honestly, eyes drifting up from the plate. breakfast takes second priority. “of course i meant it, hyung.”

yeonjun blinks a little. a smile makes its way across his face eventually, lips curling up bashfully at the ends.

“yeah?” he asks.

taehyun gives him a sweet smile; it’s natural, comes quite easily. the admittance of what he wants feels right and inevitable, his tone soft and sincere when he answers back.

yeonjun hooks their pinkies, rubs the back of taehyun’s knuckles like he always does. he threads the rest of their fingers together, and they sit like that, forearms leaning on top of the wooden surface until they both catch their eyes flickering down to the other’s lips, and taehyun coaxes yeonjun on over but stands up to meet the older boy anyway; they’re at each other’s beck and call, always have been.

someone giggles when they knock together, their noses lightly brushing. taehyun’s not completely sure who it is; yeonjun smiles a little eagerly, and taehyun is sure that he’s a mirror image of the older boy.

“here’s your present, hyung,” taehyun whispers cheekily, waits a beat, and seals the gap between them. their motions are smooth and fluid, all consistency and knowledge, reassurance and certainty built over time. taehyun figures that he could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading; it really does mean a lot to me. stay safe everyone! wishing you all nothing but health and happiness. if you'd like, come be mutuals with me on twitter! i really only gush over taejun on there, but it's always a fun time. thanks again! take care. <3
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/decalcomoniaa)


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